Wonderland Revisited: 2?/
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
2
Alan, Kevin and Mark arrived at Nindili Spaceport seven hours later. The "Patton" was already sitting on the landing field, waiting and ready for departure.
Alan glanced at his two large companions and sighed in resignation. He looked distastefully at his reflection in the window that gave prospective passengers a view of the landing field, and quelled an internal shudder.
In actuality, it wasn't an unpleasant picture at all, or it wouldn't have been if the image he saw hadn't been of him.
A pretty, softly rounded young woman, with light brown hair and brown eyes looked back at him, her pink, rouged lips pouting slightly and her eyelids drooping seductively. Alan frowned at the image and saw it frown back. "I look okay, I guess," he said grudgingly.
"Okay!" Kevin put an arm around him. "Honey, you look good enough to eat!"
Alan looked up at him indignantly. "Will you cut it out? I feel stupid enough already!"
Bronson's grin broadened. "Did anyone ever tellya how cute you are when you're mad?"
Linley threw a punch at his brother. "Knock it off, Kev."
Alan looked enviously at his two companions. Standing side by side, exactly equal in height, Mark and Kevin could hardly be mistaken for anything but what they were claiming to be -- twin brothers. Their hair and eyebrows had been professionally dyed dark brown and they both wore dark brown contact lenses. Emma had carefully applied mascara to their eyelashes, darkening them to the same shade as their hair. All three were dressed in the soft, brown uniforms of the Terran Space Corps -- Mark and Kevin with the silver bars of lieutenants and Alan with the humble insignia of an ensign.
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Let's go," he said.
"Right," Linley said. "Remember what Emma said. Take short steps and swing your hips a little when you walk. And shave as often as you can."
"I will," Alan said unhappily.
They walked across the tiny landing field toward the "Patton" which lay, its engines purring softly, on the scarred surface of the landing field. The day was hot and Aldebaran beat down on their backs as they crossed the open ground, carrying their gear cases. For a cool star, Alan found himself thinking, Aldebaran was sure warm. They reached the boarding ramp and Mark and Kevin stood back courteously, allowing Alan to ascend first. They were met at the airlock by a young man who checked their identification and smiled at Alan.
"Welcome aboard," he said. "They notified us that you'd be arriving as soon as we landed. Nice to have you." His gaze went appreciatively to Alan.
"Thanks," Mark said, grinning slightly at his partner's discomfort. "I guess we oughtta get our stuff stowed before takeoff."
"I'll have somebody show you where it is." The man touched the intercom switch on the bulkhead. "Greene, Lieutenants Damien and Vernon Ashley and Ensign Woodruff have just arrived. Take them to their quarters. Takeoff is in fourteen minutes."
"Aye, sir." The voice was that of a young man, and the inner airlock door slid aside to reveal a crewman approaching at a trot. He skidded to a stop and saluted. "If you'll follow me, we don't have much time."
They hurried after him and he indicated the nearest lift. "This way. Officers Deck is Second." He glanced at Alan. "Junior officers quarters are on the port side."
Alan nodded. The crewman glanced appreciatively at Alan again. "We don't have many female officers, ma'am. Just the nurse -- Lieutenant Perkins -- and maybe a dozen others. Most of 'em are married. You aren't married, are you, Ensign?"
Alan could feel his neck getting warm. "No."
"New out of the Academy?" the man inquired. He cleared his throat.
"Yes," Alan said.
"Native Terran, too," the man said. "I can tell. You never lose the accent. I never have."
The lift came to a halt and the crewman led the way briskly down the corridor. Mark, Kevin and Alan followed. Alan tried to obey Emma's instructions to take short steps: not an easy task, in light of the fact that he had learned to accommodate his pace to Mark's long stride, which was almost twice his own.
He extended a light mental probe toward the crewman and what he saw made him withdraw it instantly. He wondered if Lyn ever saw things like that when she was with members of the opposite sex. Probably, he thought uncomfortably, and resolved silently to try to control his thoughts more strictly around his female psychic partner.
Greene stopped by a closed door in the corridor. "Here's your quarters, Ensign. Yours --" He looked respectfully at Mark and Kevin, "is right next door. Better hurry. Takeoff is in eight minutes."
"Thank you," Alan said. He depressed the button that opened the door to his new quarters. The door slid open and he entered.
And froze. In his confusion and embarrassment at the crewman's thoughts, he had forgotten to check the room out telepathically before entering. A young, and very attractive, woman was just emerging from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her. The door slid shut behind Alan.
"Hi," she said. "You must be Alice Woodruff."
He nodded mutely. The woman's face was familiar but, in his confusion, he couldn't place her. His gaze flicked to the towel and back to her face. "Uh -- yes. I just came aboard."
"I'm Jessica Rosenburg." She unwrapped the towel and began to dry her hair. "Call me Jessie."
Alan turned away, feeling heat flood his face. The name was familiar, too, but at the moment he couldn't concentrate on remembering. Jessica was slender, a little above the average height with an extremely attractive figure. Dark hair fell loosely to her shoulders and down her back. She crossed to the bunk against one bulkhead and picked up a robe, slipping it on. "What's the matter?" she inquired. She sounded puzzled.
"Nothing," Alan said, reflecting uneasily on Lyn's probable reaction, should she find out about this incident. He opened his bag and began to unpack his "belongings". He glanced over at her, noting with dismay that the neck of the robe gaped precariously low. Jessie began to comb her hair.
"Just out of the Academy?"
He nodded.
"I've only been out a year myself. Don't worry. I'm still wet behind the ears, too." She shook her hair back, spattering drops across the pink robe.
Alan returned the smile. It was easier to think, now that she had the robe on and he was able to place her at last. Jessie had been a freshman at TSA the year that Alan had made his historic mistake, and revealed his psychic abilities to the Jilectans. She had changed drastically from the quiet, shy girl that he remembered.
She had seated herself on the bunk, and now she lay back, crossing her ankles. The robe opened, revealing her legs well past mid thigh. "Well, I'm about shot. I just came off duty. Make yourself at home, Alice. I'm real easygoing. Just warn me if you're going to have a guy in, so I won't walk in on you. My last bunkmate never did." She giggled. "They were on the floor when I came in and the cabin was dark. I almost stepped on them. Boy, was I ever embarrassed!"
Alan laughed.
Jessica sat up, her brow furrowing. "Gosh, you look familiar."
He froze. "I do?"
"Have we met before?"
"I don't think so," Alan said. "Maybe you saw me at the Academy. If you graduated last year, I'd have been a year behind you."
"Probably," Jessica said. She lay back again. "I'm terrible at faces."
"Yeah, me too." Alan turned back toward his bunk and resumed the task of unloading his bag. His eyes passed over a poster on the bulkhead and snapped back.
Mark Linley's face grinned magnetically down at him, and beneath it the word "Wanted!" had been embellished with the words "by me". A ruffled pink valentine had been attached to the top of the poster.
Jessica had noticed. She smiled. "Like it?" she asked. "I swiped it off the spaceport walls on Corala. Got one of Alan Westover, too. See?"
Alan had already noticed it. Surrounded by an ornate, expensive-looking frame, it was placed in a position of honor on her dresser. An artificial red rose in a white vase stood on either side of it.
"He's my idol," Jessica explained, half-seriously. "I was four years behind his class at the Academy. I met him a couple of times and, believe it or not, I was walking with him when the Patrol came after him. Boy, I didn't know what to think!"
He'd forgotten that she was the one. "Were you scared?"
"A little. But you should have seen Alan. He took off like he knew they were after him. Guess he would have, since he's a psychic, and all. I jumped out of the way and they went by me like a cattle stampede." She grinned. "He sure was a nice boy -- shy and sweet, with the cutest body you ever saw outside a beefcake mag. He's nothing like the Jils say." She began to laugh. "He wasn't even as tall as me, that I remember. I couldn't believe it when I heard the news report five days later, about his dastardly deed committed on the sacred carcass of Lord Salthvor. You know, he was on this very ship, just about two and a half years ago. Remember that big flap when Mark Linley was taken by the Patrol?"
"I sure do!"
"Well, Alan blew up their battlecruiser's engines, you know, so they commandeered the 'Patton' to take Mark to Corala. Alan must have mugged one of the new crewmembers and took his place. They'd bunked him with Lieutenant McDougal. Nobody knows for sure what really happened, but the next thing they knew, half of Linley's guards had been gassed, the other half and the Strike Commander were dead and Mark was gone. A bunch of crewmembers had disappeared, too, so no one figured out where Alan was hiding until it was too late. It turned out that he and Lieutenant McDougal had mugged the doctor and the corpsman and hid Mark in the morgue to keep the Patrol from finding him, but they didn't hurt any of the ship's crew." Jessica made a face. "It was pretty smart of them. I wish I'd been here. I heard the whole story when I came on board eighteen months later. The crew is really proud of the whole thing. Jerry Thompkins still brags about how Alan took his place to pull the whole thing off."
Alan grinned, beginning to enjoy himself. "Wasn't he mad about being mugged?"
"Not a bit. Alan didn’t hurt him, you know. He just needed the identity to get on board. Jerry's glad he could help, even if it was only by getting stuffed in a laundry bag and hidden in a closet. I would have been, too. Gosh, when I saw him on the video three months ago, I was in tears. I was sure he'd had it. I could have kissed Subcommander Bronson for what he did."
"Yeah," Alan said, feelingly. "Me too." He glanced back at his poster again. "I wonder what Alan would say if he could hear you now."
She laughed. "I can see we're going to get along well. But if he were around right now, I wouldn't say anything. I'd just throw him on my bunk and assault him."
Alan could tell his cheeks were pink. Jessie laughed. "I'm giving you a bad first impression, aren't I? Actually, I'm awfully shy around the guys."
A piercing whistle sounded and Alan lay down on his bunk and fastened the safety webbing in preparation for takeoff.
"What shift are you on?" Jessie asked.
Alan had checked the duty roster by the lift when Greene was escorting him to his quarters. "The third. I start next cycle."
"What section?"
"Engineering."
"Me too," Jessica said. "Except I'm on the second shift."
The whine of engines increased suddenly and the nearly subsonic rumble vibrated through his bones. Alan lay still, waiting for the surge that meant that the ship was lifting off. He sensed Jessica watching him and glanced over at her. She smiled, but her expression still held that puzzled look. "You look awfully familiar."
His heart speeded up slightly. Did she suspect?
Carefully, he extended a light mental probe and, to his surprise, found it blocked. For one wild moment, he wondered if Jessica had been conditioned. If so, it probably meant that she was a member of the Terran Underground.
But an instant later he knew it wasn't so. Her shielding was natural. Jessica Rosenburg was one of those individuals, rare but true, whose mind was naturally resistant to a psychic probe.
They were lifting off. With great caution, aware that she might be able to detect his maneuvering if he wasn't extremely precise, Alan strengthened the probe. Her shielding began to waver and she moved suddenly, rubbing a hand across her eyes. Quickly, he withdrew the probe.
Jessica glanced at him. "I'm going to take a little nap. I'm pretty tired."
"Sure. Go ahead."
Jessica closed her eyes. Alan checked his chronometer. The ship's next stopover would be in the Capella system, ten hours away, and it was very likely that before they arrived the Patrol would have traced Rannir's movements to the "Patton", and the puzzle pieces would come together. They *had* to find the disk before then. There was no doubt that a Patrol cruiser, and very likely a Jilectan or two, would meet the "Patton" upon its arrival.
The gravity field clicked in and weight returned to normal. Alan shifted uncomfortably on the soft bunk and fixed his eyes on Mark Linley's face, grinning down at him from the bulkhead. He wondered how the brothers were doing. He would find out as soon as they went into hyperspace.
"How old are you, Alice?" Jessica asked suddenly.
He jumped, looking over at her. Her eyes were open again and she was watching him.
"Twenty."
"You look about seventeen."
He smiled. "Yes, I've been told that before."
"You went to the Academy when you were sixteen, then?"
"Yes."
There was a jolt as the ship converted to hyperspace. Alan unstrapped himself and sat up, glancing at Jessica again. She had turned on her side and her legs were covered, much to his relief.
"Well," she said, "I'm going to sleep. I got off duty an hour ago, and I'm beat. What are you going to do?"
Alan went over to the mirror and checked himself over carefully. "I'm going to report to the Captain and look around the ship. If I come in, I'll try to be quiet."
"Oh, don't worry about that. I sleep like a log. I'll see you later. Be careful."
He stiffened. "What do you mean?"
She winked at him. "There's a lot of love-starved males on this crate, honey. Watch your p's and q's or someone's bound to make a pass. You're too cute."
"Oh." Alan fussed with his bangs, trying once more to extend a mental probe. Jessica had spread her hair out on the pillow and her eyes were closed. He strengthened the probe and once more she stirred restlessly. Drat! Non-conditioned Terrans weren't supposed to be able to detect a psychic probe, but it was evident that Jessica Rosenburg was the exception to the rule. He turned and went out, dimming the lights. "Night, Jessie."
"Night. Remember what I said."
The door slid shut behind him.
**********
tbc
